


Up and In

by risotto



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future Fish, Anal Sex, Bottom Tachibana Makoto, Firefighter Tachibana Makoto, Implied Oral Sex, Kinda PWP, M/M, Makoto Tachibottom Festival 2K14, Quick and Dirty, Quickies, Top Matsuoka Rin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 21:02:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2596328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risotto/pseuds/risotto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin supposes he has the right to be a little suspicious. After all, it’s not every day firefighters seduce policemen; it’s usually the other way around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up and In

**Author's Note:**

> My dumb and short entry for Makoto Tachibottom Festival 2014—
> 
> Day 2: November 20th -- Splash Free!/Future Fish AUs.

**Welcome Iwatobi PD’s Sano Precinct to First Aid and CPR Certifications Class!**

The class is mandatory for all the rookie officers to the department and for those who neglected to renew their bi-annual certifications. Rin’s unusual in that he’s a little bit of column A and mostly column B because he mistakenly assumed his qualifications from his teenage swimming days would carry over and never expire.

Yet, here he is, forced to retake the one-day course in a small high school classroom, early as shit on a Saturday morning with about four other unlucky officers.

Misery loves company, apparently, because his best friend and partner Sousuke’s in the group with him. Sousuke looks just as uninterested and annoyed with everything as Rin is, but he also seems awake and aware of what’s going on, too.

Rin nudges him. “Hey—where’s the proctor?”

Sousuke shrugs and yawns. So much for being awake and aware.

Rin groans. The day’s just started and already it looks to be the worst one in recent memory.

 

-

 

That opinion changes a while later when the instructor stumbles into the room, looking flustered and razzled. He’s got a thick binder tucked into the crook of his arm and he’s dragging one bag along the floor while another one hangs precariously off his broad shoulders. Yet, he looks nothing like what Rin expected: he’s tall and built with an approachably handsome face.

Rin wonders why didn’t he take this class _sooner_.

The instructor bows in apology. “Oh, goodness! I’m so sorry for being late, everyone! I had to run back to the station to get these papers and that’s when it started coming down! I for sure thought the weatherman said it was going to be a sunny day.”

It’s raining outside, something that only encourages more sleep. But now that Rin sees how it makes the instructor’s shirt cling to the sharp contours of his body, he can’t be more awake and more grateful for the weatherman’s fuck-ups.

With his things set in order at the front of the classroom—the mat, the practice dummies, the defribillator, and other things Rin can’t be bothered to look at right now because _damn_ —the instructor smiles and regards the class.

“Good morning,” he introduces, “I’m Tachibana Makoto, from the Iwatobi Fire Department. I’ll be your instructor for today. It’s nice to meet you!”

Firefighter. Well, that explains everything.

 

-

 

“Now, to demonstrate the Heimlich manuever.”

The name of the technique is kind of familiar. Rin remembers hearing about it in school years ago. One of the rookies quips that it sounds like an act or position found in German porn. Embarrassed, Rin groans into his palm.

Thankfully, Tachibana doesn’t hear them. Or, if he does, he doesn’t let on and just smiles a wide smile and says, “I'm going to need a volunteer. Matsuoka-san, how about you?”

Rin freezes. “Me?”

“You're an ideal height and build. Please? If you don't mind?”

Rin’s mind is a battlefield between logic and desire. On the one hand, he can easily argue that Sousuke’s actually taller than Tachibana and would be better suited, but on the other, Rin doesn’t want to deny himself the chance to be near him. _God_ , Rin thinks, _I’m hot for teacher—it’s like I’m in high school all over again._

Sousuke’s smirking, his chin on the heel of his palm. “Yeah, Matsuoka-san. You’re the ideal height.”

It really is like high school all over again.

In order to keep things on track and far _far_ away from the topic at hand, Rin ignores Sousuke and accepts Tachibana’s request. At least, that's what he tells himself. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he gets to stand at the front of the room as Tachibana reaches his long arms around his waist from behind, his chest pressed up against Rin’s back. Nor does it have to do with the fact that Tachibana’s now so damn close, Rin can smell the fresh soap he showered with and the faint traces of his cologne.

“So once the patient starts choking and is unable to pass anything through the airway, you step behind them like this and place one foot in between their legs so that if they lose consciousness, they’ll fall back against you.”

Good to know. That could happen any second now.

“Next,” Tachibana says, and while his voice isn’t loud, it rumbles deeply in his chest and Rin feels it course through his own body, making him shiver. He closes his eyes and hopes the others don’t notice any funny expressions he might be making. This shit is embarrassing enough as it is.

“You're going to place your fist, thumb side in, just above the person's belly button.” And Tachibana does just that, the hard knuckle of his thumb pressing gently into the dip between Rin’s abdominal muscles.

“And grab the fist tightly with your other hand…”

It’s like he’s being hugged by a bodybuilder. Rin feels small and caged in between Tachibana’s long, strong arms. It’s an unusual feeling but _fuck_ , he fits well. He can get used to this.

“Then, you’ll want to pull your fist upward then inward to force the obstruction from the windpipe. So, thrust up and in. Got it? Up and in.”

Oh god. Even Sousuke looks like he's going to burst at the seams.

“If the person is conscious and lying on his or her back, straddle the person while facing them.” Tachibana releases him and steps out from behind him. “I’ll demonstrate.”

Suddenly bereft of Tachibana’s warmth, and well aware of what might happen in full view of a small class of his peers, Rin balks. Tachibana’s not going to straddle him—?

He shoots Tachibana a furtive glance over his shoulder and gets a gesture to return to his seat, as well as a grateful smile and maybe a tiny wink, for his efforts. “Thank you, Matsuoka-san. I’ll use one of the practice dummies here.”

It’s not until he sits back down at that too-small desk and comes down from whatever cloud of sensation being behind the Tachibana put him on that Rin realizes how hard he’s become. He sits cross-legged and prays no one notices.

As Tachibana smoothly goes on with his lesson, Sousuke leans in closer to Rin and whispers, “wipe your chin—you’re drooling.”

Rin kicks him in the shin for that.

But only after making sure he’s not, in fact, drooling.

 

-

 

Before Rin knows it, the class is over.

He dazed right through most of it: he only knows the CPR portion, though he lamented only being able to simulate it all on the practice dummy; he remembers just half the part on treating snake and insect and snake bites; and despite Tachibana’s earnest efforts, Rin has no idea what BVM stands for and only vaguely knows how to use one. He figures as long as he wears his gloves and doesn’t put his mouth over anything, he’s good to go.

But then, thinking of putting his mouth over Tachibana is why he missed so much of the class to begin with. It’s not that he dozed off or ignored the firefighter’s lesson on purpose or anything—he was simply distracted. By everything.

The curve of Tachibana’s lips when he pronounced certain words; the strong line of his back as he moved from one side of the room to the other; and _that ass_ when he bent over to pick up something that had fallen from his desk...

By the end of the class and after the certification cards are passed around, there’s a bulge in Rin’s pants he’s sure can be seen from a mile away. Even worse, it won’t go away—not unless he does something about it. And the opportunity for _that_ won’t come for at least another hour or two when he’s back in his apartment and burying his face in his pillow and his hand down his pants.

Jaw tight with frustration, Rin gathers his things and moves to head out of the classroom with Sousuke until Tachibana stops him dead in his tracks with a simple: “Matsuoka-san.”

Shit. What does he want now?

Rin exchanges a look with Sousuke then looks carefully over his own shoulder at some spot in the wall on the other side of the room, as if the tiniest bit of eye contact with Tachibana will alert him to the raging boner in his pants. “Y-Yes?”

Luckily, Tachibana’s busy with looking over small stacks of papers instead of at Rin’s crotch. “I’m sorry, but I forgot to have you fill out a few forms,” Tachibana says with a weak smile, “since you’re the highest ranking officer in the class.”

Part of Rin wants to leap out one of the windows. The other part, well, it’s too focused on the fact that some time after class had ended and the men filed out of the classroom, Tachibana had untucked his polo shirt and undid two of its three buttons. A minor thing, really, but the less kept-together he looked, the hotter he became.

Rin nods stiffly, feeling the lump shift around in his pants, and almost sobs in protest when Sousuke says he’ll go on ahead and wait for him out in the car. With Sousuke—his only lifeline—gone and with just the two of them left, the classroom feels almost smothering now. For his own sake, Rin decides to remain standing.

“I’m very sorry, Matsuoka-san. This is my first time doing this sort of thing.”

Tachibana couldn’t have picked a less suggestive way of wording himself if he tried, Rin mutters in his brain. “Don’t worry about it,” he says hastily, averting his gaze, “we all run into...bumps...in the road.”

He wants to slap himself and start that over but by then, it’s too late and Tachibana’s chuckling softly. “I suppose you’re right,” he says, “here, don’t let me keep you.”

Tachibana hands Rin several blank forms and a pen, and though he’s still smiling, warm and bright like the sun on this dreary, rainy day, there’s a dusky and glazed look to his eyes. And Rin notices how they’re shamelessly scanning him up and down; how they linger longer on certain parts of his body than on others.

Fuck, he needs to get out of here. Fast.

He clicks the pen to life and starts randomly filling in the required sections on the first form without barely knowing what the form is for or what it is that he’s writing. He could be signing his life away, for all he knows. He just wants to go home and take a shower. A very cold one.

He’s barely at the bottom of form two when Tachibana stands from his desk and moves somewhere behind him, far enough that Rin can’t tell where he’s going until he hears the classroom door slam shut.

Rin jumps and spins around, his eyes probably wider than saucers. Tachibana, meanwhile, doesn’t seem to notice. “Sorry, the draft,” is all he says.

Turning back around, Rin can’t scribble any faster. The characters are mushed and sloppy—sloppier than even Sergeant Mikoshiba’s chicken-scratch—and they probably don’t make any sense, but he doesn’t care. In less than a minute, he’ll be out of here. Or so he thinks.

Tachibana’s behind him when he thinks he’s home-free, casually peering over his shoulder. Draft Rin’s ass—he’s warmer than a furnace. “Oh, are you finished already?”

“Y-Yeah,” Rin croaks, “all done.”

Rin’s not prepared for him being so close. He’s not prepared for Tachibana’s smooth cheek brushing up and down along his jaw. Shit, he’s not prepared for any of this, really, and he’s certainly not prepared for Tachibana’s response, murmured softly against the side of his mouth. “We can _continue_ , if you want...”

“Tachibana.”

“You don’t want to?” Tachibana presses into Rin’s lower back, letting him know, however bluntly, how much _he_ does. His hands are hot over the fabric of Rin’s pants as he undoes his belt, even hotter when one reaches in and glides along his erection.

Rin exhales shakily. Oh, he _needs_ to—only, he can’t very well offer such a response because his tongue has gone numb in his mouth and all he can manage, awkwardly, is, “are you sure?”

Hours spent suppressing every hormonal urge in his body and subconsciously praying for this, Rin supposes he has the right to be a little suspicious. After all, it’s not every day firefighters seduce policemen; it’s usually the other way around.

At least, that’s what Aomine down at the station always said. But now, with Tachibana moved around him so that he’s the one trapped between Rin’s body and the desk, Rin’s willing to concede the fact that he’s been seduced.

Tachibana gently rocks forward onto the balls of his feet, half-turning back to look at Rin with that dusky green stare. Without a word, he motions to his bag on the desk then he lowers himself and blinks, languorously, as if simply waiting for Rin to make his next move.

Inside the bag, stuffed between two chocolate bars and some papers, are a packet of condoms and a small bottle of lube.

Definitely seduced.

And then Rin lets himself go, pushing first the other man’s pants down then his own, leaving them both mostly naked below the waist. Quick and dirty isn’t Rin’s style. He honestly prefers prolonged foreplay and all the little seductive things that make sex an experience rather than just an act. But as he rolls on a condom and dumps almost half the lube over his covered dick and spreads Tachibana open with just two fingers, he can admit there are some perks to doing things differently.

Such as the sudden, sweet sound of Tachibana’s voice when Rin ruts forward— _fuck_ —right into him. His voice is sharp and surprised but, to Rin’s relief, not the least bit pained, so Rin pulls back and pushes into him again, slowly, eager to hear that sound dragged out.

“Oh,” Tachibana gasps, his cheeks pink with exertion and loss of breath. There’s sweat dotting his brow already and Rin has to wonder if Tachibana’s been holding out for this as hard as he has.

“Harder.”

Did he just—?

Rin slows his pace down to a near-stop, stunned and believing he might be fucking an actual mind-reader. Except, Tachibana doesn’t let him stop completely and bucks his hips right back against him, forcing Rin’s cock back into his ass. Up and in, just like he’d said during class.

“Harder,” he groans again, impatient.

If he wasn’t so wound up himself, Rin might continue the pace as frustrating and drawn-out as is, just to see the lengths Tachibana would go to get off. But Rin’s not particularly interested in or capable of thrusting so slow either. E specially with Tachibana urging himself back onto him every time his hips move just the slightest bit forward , all but begging for him to fuck him proper.

So, Rin obliges him, hard enough to make the desk creak and grate along the floor in a sort of rhythm with Tachibana’s whines and groans , until both his mind and body are no longer up to the task. Until his grip on Tachibana’s hips is desperate and bruising and he’s moving faster and harder, grinding his sharp teeth together and doubling over —

Rin’ s mind goes blank, a flash of white washing over his eyes, and he comes. It’s not until some numb, unspecified moment later, when Rin’s vision is blurry and still returning, that he realizes between the start of that brain-numbing orgasm and its glorious end, he bit Tachibana. Not hard enough to tear the flesh or make him bleed—just enough to clearly mark him, bright red on the shoulder, for the next few days.

He hums, proud of himself for that, a sound that urges Tachibana to roll over on the desk onto his back. His legs are spread as far apart as possible with his pants bunched up between his ankles. He’s peering up at Rin through his dark lashes, his face flushed and glowing with sweat. His fist wrapped tight around his own swollen cock.

And for a brief second there, Rin can see the slight, meaningful twitch at the corner of Tachibana’s mouth, clear as day.

“Oh, are you finished already?”

This time, Rin’s prepared for him, dropping to his knees, his mouth wide open.

 

_-_

Sousuke’s still waiting out in the car and tipping back a can of cola when Rin wobbles outside a half hour later.

“Took you long enough,” he mutters.

Rin’s throat is too raw, his voice too ragged, to offer up anything more than a slight, “shut up,” in return as he buckles his seatbelt.

Sousuke shrugs, turns the key in the ignition, then says, “Rin, wipe your chin—you’re drooling.”

This time, Rin smirks when he responds. “That’s not drool.”

It’s not quite a kick to the shins but the effect is all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> No, I was not listening to Van Halen's _Hot for Teacher_ when I wrote this. *guilty look*


End file.
